


Royal Dirt

by SirJosephBanksFRS



Category: Aubrey-Maturin Series - Patrick O'Brian
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-25
Updated: 2013-05-25
Packaged: 2017-12-12 23:32:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/817328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirJosephBanksFRS/pseuds/SirJosephBanksFRS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stephen’s encounter with a medicine man in Vanuatu radically changes his perspective of diagnosis and treatment. This work takes place between <i>The Far Side of the World,</i> and <i>The Reverse of the Medal</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Royal Dirt

Stephen Maturin was cautiously elated to hear that the _Surprise_ would be landing in Port Vila, the main city in Efate, one of Captain Cook’s Sandwich Islands, known now as part of the New Hebrides. He had seen his hopes of setting foot on solid ground so many times utterly dashed that he attempted to restrain his excitement.  It was in Port Vila that Sir Joseph Banks had met a Mr. Sato Iolu, one of the most remarkable men Sir Joseph had ever encountered whilst circumnavigating the globe. “He is most perspicacious,” Sir Joseph had told Dr. Maturin over a glass of Madeira at Black’s “utterly amazing. He is a medical man to their head men, to their royalty. He speaks English and French fluently now and I have had many missives from him. We brought some of the sailors ashore who we thought would go over the side imminently with tropical diseases and he had cured them within days. Of course, what he said was just so much nonsense, but his ability to diagnose and treat was staggering and prodigious. He could take one look at a man and know virtually everything about him.”  
  
Stephen had been guarded, believing that there was no way that Mr. Iolu could possibly live up to Sir Joseph’s extreme praise.  He brought a letter of introduction from Sir Joseph and was pleased to give it to the proper authority and within an hour’s time was meeting with Mr. Iolu himself, a man of about sixty-five, about Stephen’s height but with a more substantial build, a Melanesian gentleman who spoke English very well and met Stephen in western clothes, as opposed to the grass skirts that most of the population of Efate wore.  
  
“It is a pleasure, sir, to meet you.” Mr. Iolu said, shaking Stephen’s hand. “A friend of Sir Joseph Bank’s is a friend of mine. How is the dear gentleman?”  
  
“He is, as you would expect, far older now than when you met him but he does admirably well.” Stephen said. “He spoke so very highly of you and your medical abilities that it is indeed a privilege to meet you.”  
  
“Our medicine is very primitive here, of course,” Mr. Iolu said. “We have not the resources and training that Europeans have. We must use the most basic resources and our intuition to heal and we do well as long as our people do not get European diseases.”  
  
“Sir Joseph said you have an infirmary?”  
  
“Yes, sir, so we do. Most of our patients are foreigners who are left by their ships, given up as it were, who stay and recover and wait for a ship home.”  
  
“May I see your infirmary?”  
  
“Of course.” Mr Iolu and Stephen walked up the dusty main street in Port Vila and ran into Captain Aubrey walking down the street with Tom Pullings.  
  
“Why, Stephen, there you are.” Jack said  
  
“Jack, this is Mr. Iolu, the medical gentleman to whom Sir Joseph Banks introduced me. Mr. Iolu, allow me to introduce the captain of His Britannic Majesty’s Ship _Surprise_ , Captain John Aubrey and our second in command, Lieutenant Thomas Pullings.” Stephen said and Mr. Iolu bowed to Jack, who returned his bow and then to Tom Pullings, who also bowed.  
  
“Stephen, we are down to the market to get provisions. I shall expect you back at the quay by sunset at the latest. Bonden shall be waiting there for you in the blue cutter.”  
  
“I shall be there promptly.” Stephen said, bowing and they parted ways. He and Mr. Iolu continued to walk up hill.  
  
“He is your very good friend, Captain Aubrey? Your particular friend, as you say?”  
  
“Yes, he is.” Mr. Iolu nodded.  
  
“I thought so. Is it not usual, though, amongst the English?” Stephen raised an eyebrow. “Sir, I do not seek to give you offense.”  
  
“I take none, but I am not certain that I apprehend your meaning.”  
  
“I mean no incivility, Dr. Maturin. English people do not, in general, touch.”  
  
“I am not English.” Stephen said. “I am actually Irish. It is the difference, perhaps, between Futuna and Torba in your country?”  
  
“But you and the Captain do touch, am I correct?”  
  
“Again, I am not quite certain that I understand.” Mr. Iolu stopped beneath a palm tree.  
  
“I mean that you are what you call “lovers,” that your relations are sexual.”  Stephen exerted a huge degree of self-control to appear unknowing and disinterested and Mr. Iolu laughed. “I apologize, Doctor. Such things are of no import here, the observation is absolutely commonplace. Any child in Efate would know to see you stand near him. We do not find this a shameful thing by any means. Not at all.” He said and he and Stephen continued trudging up the hill to the clinic.  
  
“In our country, touch is one of the few resources we have to treat illness.” Mr. Iolu said.  “Touch is never withheld from birth on. We believe to do so is injurious, indeed potentially fatal. We apprehend an entire language, a universe of touch and posture that Europeans do not perceive. We can tell much from how people’s body posture changes in proximity to others.  I understand that is not the way it is in Europe. One way in which we treat sick people is to have them lie next to someone at all times, a healthy person if possible. Children are held continually when sick. Our elders say that without someone next to the sick at all times, the spirit will start to wander and they will die. The best companion of all is the woman who is breastfeeding. Her presence and spirit anchor the soul of the sick to their bodies. This is true for a sick person of any age."  
  
“Fascinating. What about in the case of contagious illness? Do you not isolate to prevent epidemic?”  
  
“No. If they are not foreign diseases, usually there is someone who can thus attend. A healthy person will not get sick unto death. Not so, however, with European diseases. Whole islands die from the novelty of it. And here we are.” Mr. Iolu said. “And here is Mr. David,” he said, bowing to an English sailor of about forty-five years of age, sitting outside a thatched grass hut, underneath a palm tree. “Dr. Maturin, this is Mr. Josiah David, who came to Efate seven weeks ago.” The man extended his hand to Stephen and they shook hands.  
  
“Good morning, Doctor.” The sailor said. “Dr. Iolu here set me up fine.”  
  
“Indeed?” Stephen said.  
  
“It was stay here or go over the side in the next day or two,” Davids said, “which made staying here look pretty good.”  
  
“What illness did you have?” Stephen asked, hoping it was not an indelicate question.  
  
“Malaria.” Davids answered.   
  
“I am the surgeon of _HMS Surprise_. Would you, perhaps, allow me to examine you?” Stephen said. David smiled. “I could arrange passage home for you, if you would like. You are an able seaman?”  
  
“I don’t want to leave yet, mate, but examine away.” David said and they walked behind the building and he disrobed. Stephen asked him a series of questions and examined him closely and then bade the man to dress and he and Mr. Iolu walked through the infirmary. The man had evidence of having survived a very severe bout of malaria.  
  
“I did not think he would make it.” Mr. Iolu said. “It was very advanced. The crisis was extremely severe. He had a very high fever.”  
  
“Did you give him cinchona? Jesuit’s bark?”  
  
“We have no cinchona, no Jesuit’s bark.”  
  
“Then how did you treat him?”  
  
“Milk.”  
  
“Milk?” Stephen said, frowning. “What kind of milk? Goat’s milk?”  
  
“No, mother’s milk. Nothing but mother’s milk and someone to lie next to him and sponge him and talk to him in his delirium.”  
  
“Mother’s milk?” Stephen repeated dubiously.  
  
“Yes. Every hour, I had him drink as much mother’s milk as we could get into him. The lady concerned expressed her milk into a cup and I gave it to him by the spoonful. He was much better within two days, we knew he would live. He had mother’s milk continually for two weeks. And now, he is fine.” Stephen said nothing. “You find this a ridiculous treatment, obviously. We do not have the benefits of your modern physic. We use mother’s milk as medicine, some of the only medicine we have and have had forever. We have a few plants, some other medicines that have been passed to us through time, but these are small islands.”  
  
“Mr. Iolu, that you can look at the people of the village or this city and know exactly what ails them or their history does not surprise me, given that they are your people. How do you do the same with me, a total stranger? What would you say ails me?” Mr. Iolu demurred and Stephen pressed him. “I will not be offended, I give you my word. What do you think ails me?”  
  
“You have what you call melancholic tendencies. You are anxious. You frequently castigate yourself over your perceived shortcomings. You do not sleep well. Your appetite is poor. Your relations with your particular friend are one of your only solaces in life. You worry. You have joint pains at night, especially in your ankles and wrists. You have pain from injuries in your past. You are frequently irritable. You are married and you worry about your marriage and your wife. You rely on stimulants and other drugs to get through the day and sedatives to sleep at night.” Mr. Iolu said and stopped, looking at Stephen’s reaction.  
  
“Anything else?”  
  
“You are ambivalent about your sexual desires. Your desire for your wife pains you greatly and you wish it were much less. Your desire for your particular friend makes you happy and you wish it were more, much more. To match your sentiments.”  
  
“How do you know this?” Mr.Iolu shrugged.  
  
“That, I cannot say. It would be like me asking you how you look at the sky and you know it is blue. “  
  
“Is everyone here in Port Vila capable of doing the same?”  
  
“No. There is what you may called collapsed knowledge, intuition from a lifetime of observation and training from the elders, from other medicine men in our island. What I told you is obvious to me, as obvious as the fact that you wear spectacles.” Stephen was not wearing his spectacles at the moment.  
  
“How would you treat me? Mother’s milk and someone to share my bed?”  
  
“No.” Mr. Iolu said and he smiled. “I would give you what we call royal dirt.”  
  
“What is that?”  
  
“I do not think you would find it remotely plausible, Dr. Maturin.” Stephen was intrigued.  
  
“What is it?”  
  
“It is faeces.”  
  
“What type of faeces?”  
  
“Human faeces. From certain people here.”  
  
“How is it administered?”  
  
“It is cultured first to prepare it. A very minute amount is put on the skin, on the top of the foot, spread on the skin. I would wait to see if it worked, if the animalcule in it worked.”  
  
“How do you know it worked?”  
  
“The skin itches intensely. One gets tiny little spots, very tiny and then one feels much better in three days time. And one will get better and better, for a year. A person like yourself would feel a decrease in melancholia, specifically, anxiety. There would be an increase in the appetites, in restful sleep and the sexual impetus. The pain in the ankles and wrists would decrease.”  
  
“Then what happens?”  
  
“They come back to me and I treat them again.”  
  
“Can you administer this to me? Now?  
  
“Surely you jest, sir.”  
  
“No, sir, I do not. Not at all.” Stephen said. “You are the physician of the world. I only wish I could stay here in Port Vila for a year or more to learn from you.”  
  
“Your captain would die of sorrow to be parted from you.”  
  
“Well, such is not to be in any case. Mr. Iolu, will you treat me with this royal dirt? Will you treat me and tell me more about it as you do?”  
  
“You are an adventurer, clearly.” Mr. Iolu said. “As you wish.” He took Stephen to what was his office in his infirmary and had him remove his left stocking and shoe, while he told him more about his experiences using “royal dirt,” the symptoms that it treated, the side effects of the treatment, the ability of the person who was treated to then treat others, the necessity of the amount used being very small. Stephen sat and listened and watched. Within twenty minutes, the top of his left foot began to itch extremely. Mr. Iolu cautioned him not to scratch it.  
  
"If you wish to keep the animalcule, you must re-treat yourself every year, since you will not be in Efate and I cannot."Mr. Iolu said. "You take your own faeces, you put it on sand and wet it and cover it tightly in a warm and dark place and wait ten days and then apply it to yourself in this same minute amount. You must do the culture in the summer, it must be as much like Efate as possible. I cannot say if it shall work anywhere else."  
  
"Is the effect on women similar?"  
  
"Yes, but it increases their sexual desire dramatically. At least, this is what I have seen."  
  
"Do you know of any other treatment that increases the desire of women?"  
  
"No." Mr. Iolu said. "I believe the treatment would be a problem in Europe. In the New Hebrides, we do not have European notions about chastity and there is no problem. The effect can be extreme." The sun was getting low and Stephen bid a reluctant farewell to Mr. Iolu and they pledged to write each other. "Spend more time sleeping in the same bed with your Captain," Mr. Iolu said. "You will both be much happier and healthier."  
  
As they made sail away from Efate, Stephen took the decanter and poured Jack and himself glasses of port.  
  
“That man I spoke with today was most extraordinary.” Stephen said. “Perhaps the most extraordinary man I have ever met.”  
  
“Really? How so?” Jack said, attempting to put bung on his E string peg to keep it from slipping.  
  
“He knew everything about me by looking at me. I should have thought it was nothing but a parlor trick but he had never laid eyes on me before, never heard of me, had no possible confederate. I should have asked him about you.”  
  
“He saw me for less than a minute, Stephen.”  
  
“He could tell that we were lovers in the time that he saw us together in the street.” Jack’s eyes opened very wide. “That was my reaction. Sir Joseph Banks had told me that he had this ability, this preternatural ability to diagnose with one look and it was absolutely true. ‘Tis unfortunate that the only treatment they have on that God-forsaken island apparently is mother’s milk. I should have given anything to bring him home with us, but I suppose the entire population of Efate would die if he left.”  
  
Stephen did not think much about Mr. Iolu or Efate after they left. He did notice within a week that his desire for Jack had increased dramatically and as time went on that his wrist and ankle pain was reduced to nothing, that his desire and ability to act on his desire for Jack was increased significantly and that he was overall much less anxious and less melancholic, but he attributed this to potentially a placebo effect or some other factor. His sleep had improved as had his appetite and he had gained half a stone. He had forgotten about the entire thing until he was back in England and was called in to meet with Dr. William Beatty, Physician of the Fleet. Dr. Beatty was a countryman of Stephen’s, but a Protestant from Derry.  
  
“There is a matter of the utmost sensitivity and importance to the nation and the Duke of Clarence has recommended you very highly, Dr. Maturin. It calls for the utmost discretion and tact.” Stephen said nothing. “Would you consider taking the case?”  
  
“Am I to be apprised of any particulars before assenting?”  
  
“Such as?”  
  
“The condition to be treated?”  
  
“It is a very delicate matter.”  
  
“Where shall I see the patient? In London?”  
  
“No, you will be conveyed to Oatlands, in Surrey.” Stephen attempted to show no reaction to the revelation that the patient was apparently the Duke of York, second in line to the throne.  
  
“How soon shall I call?”  
  
“How soon can you leave?”  
  
“Immediately, if that is agreeable.” It was, a coach was called and soon Dr. Maturin was on his way with Dr. Beatty to Oatlands Palace, the residence of Frederick, Duke of York and his wife, the Duchess, Princess Frederica Charlotte and Dr. Beatty was debriefing Stephen as to the particulars of the case  
  
“As you are no doubt aware, the Duke and the Duchess have been married for almost ten years. They have no issue. They are separated at this point, in fact if it is not spoken of anywhere.” Dr. Beatty said. “They are virtually estranged because the Princess...” his voice trailed off. “She is not in any way receptive to the Duke.”  
  
“Has she ever been? Was the marriage consummated?”  
  
“Yes, it was. But she is not receptive to his overtures at all and never really has been. She appears to be what is described as quite frigid, interested in absolutely no man, no person, for that matter. It is a point of bitterness for His Royal Highness. There is no question of a divorce. The marital alliance is simply too valuable.”  
  
“Is there a physical issue? An underlying disease or essential lesion?”  
  
“There may be. It is not an evident anatomical problem. But in terms of her overall demeanor, her physical state, it would appear that the frigidity is a component. She is irritable, somewhat given to melancholy. She has vague aches and pains, swelling of her distal joints. Her sleep is poor. She appears generally unwell and irritable and we are concerned that this underlying disease is what is driving the frigidity and the lack of heir.  This is not an insignificant issue, it is an issue of national import, not merely an unhappy marriage.”  
  
“No, indeed.” Stephen agreed. He had seen what the failure to produce an heir had meant for Louis XVI, given the fact that it had taken the monarch eight years to produce a first child and had been a point of propaganda against the Bourbons.  
  
“She is almost forty. If the Duke is to have any chance of an heir, something needs to happen sooner, rather than later.”  
  
“Why would you think that I should have any ability to diagnose or treat this condition?” Stephen asked. “The vast majority of my patients are male. I do not believe I have ever successfully treated any lady for this malady. Indeed, I believe there is no treatment, so at least thousands if not millions of men would attest.” Dr. Beatty looked at Stephen sharply to see if there were the least levity in his expression. There was not.  
  
“The Duke of Clarence speaks extremely highly of you. He believes there is no condition you cannot alleviate if not cure. Thus, you are here.” Dr. Beatty said and Stephen looked out the window at the fine summer scenery until they finally arrived at the palace.  
  
Stephen was introduced to the Princess. She was a very beautiful but slight creature with arresting hazel eyes that varied from bright green to gold to silver to brown depending on the light. She appeared to be withdrawn. Dr. Beatty explained that Stephen was an eminent specialist there to examine her. She politely submitted to examination. He found her obviously given to melancholy and seemingly very lonely. She had multiple dogs and even pet monkeys in the palace, something Stephen found more charming than eccentric. He spent an hour examining her from head to foot in the presence of Dr. Beatty and her lady in waiting and then she dressed and left, completely disinterested in any conclusion he might have drawn.  Dr. Beatty took his arm and they went outside into the elaborately maintained gardens.  
  
“I can see nothing evidently wrong with her.” Stephen said. “There is a general tendency towards inflammation -- her wrists and hands appeared painful, her ankles and feet were swollen as well. There may be some myxedema. She definitely is more melancholic than any other tendency. Could there not be personal factors driving this frigidity, say her parent’s marriage or other early life experiences?”  
  
“Such may be but that will not provide an heir to the throne.” Dr. Beatty said. “Is there any treatment you can think of that might provide a change in her overall disposition? I do not mean something like the blister beetle. I mean a physic that would make her more receptive to the Duke on an ongoing basis.” Stephen looked over the elaborate topiaries and fountains, thinking.  
  
“When I was in the New Hebrides, I met a remarkable native doctor, a Mr. Iolu, introduced to me by Sir Joseph Banks. He told me of a treatment they utilize there that may be highly effective. But it would be entirely experimental to be used here. I have no idea if it has ever been used on a European woman. He told me it increases the sexual desire of women dramatically, so dramatically that it makes them unchaste; incapable, perhaps of chastity.”  
  
“How frequently must it be administered?”  
  
“Once, I believe, one time per year, should it prove effective. It is topical.”  
  
“How does it work?”  
  
“I do not know. Mr. Iolu did not know.”  
  
“Is there any indication that it actually works?”  
  
“I believe so.” Stephen said.  
  
“Can you administer it?”  
  
“I need time to prepare it.” Stephen said. “It will take eleven days and I need the use of a hot house.”  
  
“By all means.” Dr. Beatty said. “How soon would we know if it worked?”  
  
“To know if the dose is efficacious, immediately. Within an hour. The effects increase over time. It could be days or months to see a difference.” He thought of himself and how he had set upon Jack in the cabin within one week of them leaving Efate, how Jack had barely gotten the door of the cabin locked before Stephen had undone his breeches, how shocked Jack had been by his ardour, how they had done things that had apparently never even occurred to Jack as possibilities because of dear Mr. Iolu’s sagacious treatment and advice. Jack had gone from shocked to delighted to have Stephen enthusiastically showing him how they could both lie on their sides and simultaneously engage in fellatio.  He thought of how surprised, too, Jack had been when Stephen woke up actually singing in Catalan the next day, before Stephen remembered that his voice was the reason he never sang and had started whistling, a practice frowned upon by everyone on board as unlucky. “There is a large degree of variability.”  
  
All the arrangements were made. Stephen spent the next eleven days there.  He made his culture of royal dirt in the royal hot house, followed Mr. Iolu’s instructions to the letter and hoped that it would work. He had added very finely ground charcoal and there was little if no smell whatever. Finally, he inoculated the royal foot, waited half an hour and her Royal Highness had almost shrieked at how much her foot itched and he was confident that whatever animalcule were present in the New Hebrides, they had made it to Oatlands. He gladly returned home to the Grapes that night.  
  
In Stephen’s fashion, he forgot all about Her Royal Highness, the Duchess of York as soon as he was back in the Liberty of the Savoy. Three months went by and he was at the Admiralty to call upon Sir Joseph Blaine when he ran into Dr. Beatty as he waited to be announced.  
  
“Maturin! How good to see you.” Stephen bowed. “Are you engaged? Can you possibly come to my office?”  
  
“I am meeting Sir Joseph, but he is detained, so certainly, if we shall not be too long.” They walked up to Dr. Beatty’s office and Dr. Beatty closed and locked the door as Stephen sat down.  
  
“Our patient?” Stephen said. “Was the treatment effective?”  
  
“Maturin, what exactly was the treatment?”  
  
“It is what Mr. Iolu called “royal dirt.” There is no other name in English. Why do you ask? Was it effective?”  
  
“If Her Royal Highness produces no heir, it will not be because of lack of opportunity.” Stephen raised an eyebrow. “Maturin, it is actually quite, well, quite shocking. You saw the woman, you saw what a cold fish she was. She is transformed entirely. Entirely. Unfortunately, her affections are not limited to the Duke.”  
  
“Are there other changes?”  
  
“She is an entirely changed woman. Entirely. It is the most amazing thing I have ever seen. You saw how meek and subdued and withdrawn she was. She is vivacious, outgoing, coquettish indeed. For the last two months, she has been engaged in a daily liaison with one of the grooms at the palace and another liaison with a member of the court there. She wakes up singing.”  
  
“Indeed?” Stephen said.  
  
“She has almost been caught _in flagrante delicto_ by the Duke. Maturin, I could be mistaken but I believe that she actually looked at me in a most coquettish manner after I finished examining her. Her eyes changed from green to the most luminous gold imaginable.I told myself I had to have been imagining it.”  
  
“The other complaints? The irritability, the inflammation, the melancholic tendencies, the poor sleep?”  
  
“All gone. It is remarkable. What exactly is the effective mechanism of this treatment?”  
  
“I do not know. So much the better if it worked. I hope there is an heir soon.”  
  
“Maturin, do you know where I may obtain this “royal dirt?”  
  
“I would recommend sending a scientific expedition to the New Hebrides. Perhaps you might engage Captain Aubrey in His Majesty’s Hired Vessel, _Surprise_. Speak to Sir Joseph Banks, I’m sure he would be quite pleased to discuss with you.”  
  
“Is there no other source besides going to the New Hebrides? Have you no more of this “royal dirt?” Could you be prevailed upon to make another dose, given access to a hot house? Have you not just one more dose of it to spare, in the interest of science?”  
  
“No, sir, I do not.” Stephen said and he stood up. “I give you joy at the success of your consultation and pray an heir appears very soon. Sir Joseph awaits me now and I must bid you adieu.” Stephen said, rising. He bowed and left.  
  
After his meeting with Sir Joseph, Stephen walked back to the Grapes eager to spend the night with Jack. He felt a spring in his step and was amazed to find himself smiling at nothing and thinking how much more he had come to seek and apprehend touch since leaving Efate, having been inoculated with the royal dirt.


End file.
